27.12.10

San opened up her eyes; they were glowing like never before. She had the same anticipation that felt the first time she drank that black tea on the Moroccan kiosk, It´s just this time, she knew where the excitation came from, also knew how to control it.

In front of her eyes it was a magazine, yet the magazine itself wasn´t the reason of her happiness. It could be read the word Vogue?, even it sounded familiar to her, she didn´t mind… it was just a word; in front of her was one image, a picture that could tell one and one thousand stories, a picture from the Italian version of the already named magazine, a back number; nine months of delay.San´s grandma always carried on with her, a postcard from her beloved; there wasn´t on it the author, neither name nor date. There was just a blank space on the other side that was filled with a few words from San´s Grandpa, A Spanish man.

22.12.10

But what is it? What it sounds? In Dagestan San had heard that song before, but now, she put face and body to that known voice. After that embarrassing episode with the hideous lady on the vintage stall in Candem, San was walking away a little upset; going to her mother´s place when suddenly she heard that song, it came from a Chinese food kiosk, inside there, it was a flat screen where An apparently healthy Carson Daily, young, and with a body mass index on reasonable levels, was announcing in front of a few selected on the set of TRL and a crazy crowd outside Time Square this girl: My loneliness is killing me I must confess, I still believe When I'm not with you I lose my mind Give me a sign Hit me baby one more time Oh god, that girl... She was hot as hell, that blonde from America singing in English… San actually understood some phrases: Give me a sign! Hit me baby one more time! There´s nothing that I wouldn´t do... And a string of stupid things, one by one. Yet they had San amazed: if esthetic and fashion we are talking about, pop singers were the closest thing for San. Hard pop with no mercy: SAN WAS ENCHANTED. But she saw something further than that, something beyond than just one hot girl; Pink fur bubbles tying up each one of her threats, the perfect American lifestyle in combo with the most then in vogue style, Manga. Sports a lot of sports, and all that mash up form these different styles reminded San to something, but what? What was that nod toward who? That girlie and innocent look on women no that innocents and not that young left San really intrigued. The idiot Blonde, the sporty, the fierce one, the whore, and the read head gobbling up every man crossing her way with a tiny baby doll with those recognizable blue and red strokes from the UK flag. -Wow, amazing, but what is this? Why every one is on almost the same mood? Even those five women with male disguise called Backstreet Boys, how I love those queer guys…"- San Thinked. It was quarter past nine; News announced with proud the new style direct from Milan; two Italian designers called Stefano and Domenico, presenting a collection with UK as the key word from the whole presentation; the debate was initiated and an open question flown in the air, "-Are you agree with the fact the Brit flag is being used in order to complete those pretentious numbers from this both?- Time went by, and while among the discussion of hot air from hosts, which San didn´t captured the most of the words her mother called her. The Stable was full of people waiting for their blintz, and San had the task of add of the final touch, the syrup. While she was serving, and calling her grandma to take the money, her mind was flying away…. Like a psychotropic adventure up there.

-What´s this?- -I have seen that dress- -I have seen that length- -It´s like a nod toward something but I don´t know what- -Why does everyone tend to dress this way?- -Who are those? Dolce and Gabbana?- -Why everybody is trying to dress like a kid?- -Why all models are so skinny, that seems like they tend to be like a thirteen year old girl?- -What´s this?- -A trend?- To be continued…..

20.12.10

-But who the hell wears that? Move your ass, you little girl-", San barely heard from her back, that voice coming from one lady with more than 50 inches on her waist, she was holding a hamburger and a sausage full of mustard and ketchup on one hand, while with the another was taking a jewel case Louis XVI style made in china in 1990; San wanted to throw up, to puke right at the moment, and not for the mustard or ketchup, no; neither the hideous jewel box, yet it was for those fragments of chewed food, coming out from ladies’ mouth while haggling over the price of such a "piece of art". -"Of course I´d wear those shoes-", San answered while walking away...

Those were a vintage pair from André Perugia from 1930, with such recognizable surrealism approach typical from that decade, a proposal offered from shoe makers like André to designers like Elsa Schiaparelli herself. The thing that the rounded lady didn´t know is that: The pair of Chanel, those she was wearing as a treasure from her grandmother, those she took care like of gold we were talking, for many years, came from the same designer, André, as from those pairs with fish eye, those she was almost laughing at making San leave just for not hearing such a fallacy. One movement, one ridiculous and clumsy movement to point out another "little piece of art" from the stall the lady made; a knit black striped tee with a big and imposing FIVE in the front. That stupid move made, ladies’ hamburger fall, covering with a mix of mustard, ketchup and onion the pair of eye fish stilettos, also another lace pair from Yona Levine making a completely mess and embarrassing scene . The joke resulted in 320 pounds and bye bye to that baroque little treasure and that hideous Chanel shirt with the number five, any way, it wouldn’t fit her.

It was a deity sign against tackiness. San was protected by an invisible halo of chicness.

15.12.10

Her complete name is Sanabra Domentitskeva, a Russian girl borned and raised in a small city: Dagestan.

In 1999 for reasons she barely knew then, had to move and leave everything, she felt her freedom was taken away with the excuse of independence (how familiar it sounds that to me) hence her family (her mother, grandma and herself) moved to UK, to be more specific to the wonderful city of Bristol, such a safe place, with the high quality life level they were looking for, also affordable at some point, but the most important, the three girls would be away from their native city´s fracas.Food: One of San´s Mother´s passion, and their way of living. A great cooker that had San and her grandma always busy kneading, baking, sprinkling and doing all the routine, so at nightfall, it would come the most famous desert, for which all neighbors, shedding their English customaries, came to San´s house to get one of those delicious and tasty Blintz. It was like San´s mother had magic in her hands, really, she made those like anyone Brits felt so indentified with the dish. May be it was cause it had a remarkable Russian accent cause it was quite simple as any Italian crepe served with fruits, or may be cause it was adapted to the Brit custom, adding arce, white chocolate or strawberries’ syrup. San used to eat them with a slim banana slice, sugar and and just two lemon drops, it enhances its natural flavor she said.Blintz were such a success. As they were that took the three girls to the big city, to have their own Stall in the Stables Market area in London, that magical place where all smells get together to make honor to its fame, one place with food from the entire world.Go to this point, Sanabra was about to find her way… a couple of feets away she saw incredible colors, incredible shapes and incredible people, it was Candem Town, a place San won´t never ever forget the first time she walked in. Su nombre completo es Sanabra Domentitskeva, una chica rusa, que se crió en un pueblo llamado Daguestán que, en el 99 por razones que ni ella misma conocía, tuvo que dejarlo todo, una libertad arrebatada por la búsqueda de independencia, como me suena eso; su familia compuesta por su abuela, su madre y ella misma buscaron asilo político en el Reino Unido, para ser más específicos en Bristol, un lugar muy seguro, con excelente calidad de vida y hasta cierto punto accesible a sus bolsillos; lo mas importante es que estarían alejadas de el embromoso conflicto de su ciudad natal. La comida: una de las pasiones de la madre de san asi como su principal fuente de ingresos; una excelente repostera que tenia ocupadas a san y a la abuela toda la tarde amasando, metiendo al horno, espolvoreando etc… para que llegada la noche, llegara el postre más famoso del bloque, aquel postre por el cual todos los vecinos, desprendiéndose de su rutina inglesa, se agalopaban a las puertas de la casa de san para probar uno de los exquisitos platos estrella: Los Blintz, su madre tenia magia, los preparaba como ninguna, y me refiero como ninguna; era algo muy especial, los ingleses se sentían muy identificados, pues el platillo tenia una acento ruso muy marcado; era muy sencillo como cualquier crepe italiano, sin embargo podía ir acompañado de frutas, o adaptándolo a la costumbre coloquial del lugar añadiendo sirope de tres sabores: Miel maple, Fresa o Chocolate blanco. San solía comerlos sin ninguno de los tres, ella los acompañaba con trozo de plátano, azúcar y limón; decía ella, resaltaba mucho el sabor.Tal fue el éxito de los Blintz, que, hubo la oportunidad de trasladarse a la gran capital, y poner el Food Stall (chiringuito pues) nada mas y nada menos que en el Stables Market Area, donde donde un mar de olores hacían reverencia a su ganada fama: núcleo de toda la gastronomía mundial acercada a gente de a pie Sanabra emocionada, estaba por descubrir su camino; a varios metros divisaba un gran colorido y una ebullición de gente con identidades nunca vistas, Candem Town, un lugar del que San nunca olvidará la primera vez que lo pisó. Continuará…. Tonio.

12.12.10

It´s been a long since I´ve started this blog, yet I haven´t made a formal presentation; there´s so much time left to do that; By now, I´d like to introduce to one character that actually is the reason of this blog: San, Sanabra, The Lovely San or however you want to call her. Like I´ve said before, fashion illustration is one of the fashion´s facets I enjoy most, hence I´ve had the honor to meet and create such a lanky framed character. I´ll tell her story in further posts: She is my muse and my alter-ego. I really hope she raise on you that incredible feeling they call Inspiration.Ladies and Gentlemen San, The Lovely San.Tiene tiempo ya que he comenzado el blog y ni aún siquiera ha habido una presentación: Ya habrá tiempo para eso.Por el momento, quiero hacer una breve introduccion de a la razón de este blog, The Lovely San, San, o Sanabra como quieran llamarla. Como les he dicho antes, la ilustración es una de las cosas que más me gusta, y gracias a ello he tenido el honor de conocer y de crear a tan esbelto personaje. Poco a poco iré contando su historia: ella es mi musa y mi alter-ego. Ojalá les despierte también esa increible sensación de sentirse inspirado.Así que, señoras y señores: San, The Lovely San.

3.12.10

I´ve received two e-mails this week, from two followers of this blog; basically telling me they don´t like it: Why? Because It´s a Fashion Blog and Fashion Blogs make recommendations bout what to wear and what you must be away, about what´s in and what´s out; well, I´m must say they right! But I have a great excuse: I SUCK. I suck on giving advices, I suck on telling what´s in or out, and another tidbit: I´m nobody to tell you what suits you or what doesn´t, I don´t know you. But well, let´s answer the question they left me: What´s the perfect look for this December? Here´s the answer: Abito di organza di seta pied-de-coq con motivi drappeggiati e boots coordinati, Alexander Mcqueen. Guanti Jillian Lewis, Look at her how she deadpans, how beautiful she looks and how these art pieces suit her, I´ll be honest, I´ve never stopped to think how many contrast a look could have; it seems so different with a whole different mood just for adding or removing details; the one in this picture is so artful, yet so easy wearing, the only things Vogue Italy´s staff took off were the fantastic Leigh Bowery make up and the white trash bag from her head; then tousled a little the gray hair from the now fashion Icon Kristen McMenamy, and last but not least, the perfect flash from the Master Steven Meisel´s camera.